The Storytellers

A Collection of Short Stories

The Storytellers is a delightful anthology of short stories, created by young writers of all ages. We're thrilled to announce our winner!

Congratulations to Daniel Murphy (15) from London, whose story 'How The Sea Sees It' has been chosen as the best story in the collection by our Editorial team. Daniel you have won a selection of books, keep up the great work! Thank you to everyone who contributed to The Storytellers, we hope you enjoy this fantastic collection.

How The Sea Sees It

She cut along my skin. Her bow sliced along my surface, revealing the froth of my blood. I healed as the ship passed, but it still hurt as an object larger than anything I have ever faced pressed on the wound. The propellers ripped me up and shot me out as their brass surface tore through me in a straight line as they pushed the unimaginably large ship towards the coast of Manhattan. I heard the humans’ joy and triumph as the largest vessel in the world glided effortlessly across me. I heard the famous phrase ‘God himself couldn’t sink this ship’. Little did they know that God has absolutely nothing to do with this...

As the ship was increasing speed, the lacerations in my surface widened and deepened, until they were throwing my blood-foam across hundreds of feet. The humans do not have the power to create a ship this large, I thought. But still it sailed on. As the ship floated above, I noticed that the ship was massive. Gargantuan, in fact. The bow was sleekly moving across the surface of me.

I rose from the deep, the only object breaching the calm water. I had made sure that the surface of my being was utterly calm. For this to work, the conditions have to be perfect. The Titanic approached.

As the ice spotters saw me – the iceberg – from the crow’s nest the second officer ordered a turn to port. As the ship passed me, I lashed out with ice-cold fingers, mauling the bow on the starboard side and therefore fatally weakening the ship. I felt my presence enter the gashed side, spilling over men and machinery, flooding the engine rooms, destroying the ship’s integrity.

Suddenly, disaster! Watertight doors in the stricken hull closed, sealing off my approach. I decided to fill the bulkheads and boiler room instead. I dragged down with all the strength of the sea, pulling the compartments above the watertight bulkheads, as far down as possible. Eventually, success! I spilled over the tops of the bulkheads, racing through the ship as fast as possible. I could see the ship from the inside as I slowly consumed it. I laughed as my force reached the bow, dragging it down. I saw the humans run from me, my freezing depths. There were bars, gates on some of the doors. They did not matter,; I rammed into them as if they weren’t there. I lost baggage as I hit them as well, losing bags and chairs and wooden planks that were trapped on the grilles of the gates.

As my influence reached the bridge, the captain locked himself inside. I overwhelmed the room, flooded it, froze it. I sped, guffawing, into the grand staircase. I remember looking at it, thinking , this will make a lovely addition to my collection. I ripped the tall funnels from their moorings, snapped the ropes that held them. The great ship majestically fell, the stern rising as the last lifeboats left. I let them go.; They were nothing. I had my prize. The bow continued to fall, the stern to rise before the ship broke its back. My waves cackled with glee as I dragged the leviathan down into my depths. I chortled as she sank gracefully down at my feet.

That is when my power was proven. Nothing can stand against me. For I am the sea.

Teachers

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